Peanut Butter in Middle School
by MetaphoricalChickenNuggets
Summary: Tavros Nitram is going into sixth grade. And what does that mean? That's right. Middle school. New teachers, new school, new class set up... And then a new friend who thinks he's a clown. What could possibly go wrong? Oh yeah. Everything. Humanstuck! PB&J, maybe with some side pairings later on. Rated T because, c'mon, Gamzee and Karkat. (Please don't assume that I own Homestuck.)
1. Chapter 1

**Um, I feel like I'm supposed to greet people. Uh, h-hey! Welcome to my first story on fanfiction! It's PB&J, so, yeah. Have fun and rock on, I guess!**

**And guys, don't be afraid to point out any mistakes, please... I can't proofread.**

* * *

You stand on the curb, rocking back and forth impatiently on the balls of your feet. You glance up for the third time at the street sign, squinting as the sun reflected off of it and into your eyes. Yes, it still read 'bus stop'. Granted, you did get here fairly early, after all, you were the nervous type. You didn't want to miss the bus on the first day of school. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Yet, your knees continued to knock together. You shifted your shoulders to push the straps of your sienna-brown backpack more securely on them. You clutched your instrument (you enjoyed playing the flute, and you were quite good at it) tighter to your chest, glancing down the street for any signs of life. Bullies, mainly.

Especially since this is the first day of middle school.

Yes, you, Tavros Nitram, are only just starting sixth grade.

Anyways, bullies. You have read plenty of books about middle school, and you know all too much about the subject. Every book you read had an aggressor, and they were rough. You shuddered at your thoughts, and once again glance at the bright-from-the-sun sign.

You run a hand through your recently-styled Mohawk; you had just changed your mop of a haircut into that a week ago. You looked down at your clothes, smiling slightly at your Peter Pan on Broadway T-shirt. Over that you had a black button down shirt, and your legs displayed grey-almost-black jeans. You look down at your feet- socks with sandals was such an underestimated style- and you grin.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps come up beside you. You're heart stops and your smile falls as you spin to see who it is. Let let out a breath of relief seeing that it's only Karkat. He was a grouchy kid, but there was no way he would hurt. Plus, he was only in sixth grade too, and you could tell he was scared. Not that he would ever let it show.

"H-hey, Karkat..." you stammer.

He only grunts your name back in greeting and plays with the straps of his black-and-grey backpack. His red eyes darted around, and he flipped his ginger hair out of his face. As you recall, his hair was snow-white last year. He must of gotten it dyed for the "special occasion" that was the first day of middle school.

Feeling more comfortable that someone else is there and much less exposed, you hum quietly under you breath and wait for the bus. Soon, more people come and join you and Karkat, and you survey he crowd.

You recognized most of the kids, considering that a lot of them were joining you and Karkat on the quest of sixth grade. There was Nepeta, her signature neko-beanie over blond hair, and the over-sized green trench coat sitting loosely on her shoulders. She was talking avidly to the boy next to her- Equius, you remembered. His long straight black hair was ruffled slightly by the wind as he attempted to get a word in with Nepeta. All the other kids seemed older, and they really didn't seem familiar to you except...

Oh crap, that was Vriska. You quickly snap your head back to the street and away from her. You and Vriska have had a... strange... relationship... Ever since in third grade she pushed you off the slide while trying to kill you. Luckily, you only broke your ankle. Sometimes the injury started to act up again, and you would limp slightly.

You sneak another glance at Vriska. Her long blond hair tumbled over her shoulders, and an eye patch covered her left eye. She injured sometime last year and only really needed to wear the eye patch for a week, but she liked the way it looked, so she kept it. Vriska glances at you, but you quickly look away.

The chattering of students died down as the sound of the bus rumbles in the distance. It rounds the corner and the yellow vehicle bumbles down the street and parks in front of the bus stop. The door opens and the kids pile on, the older students pushing the younger ones out of the way. You were last up the dirty steps. The bus driver greeted you with a smile and a "good morning." You grin back murmur a greeting back.

The bus was dead silent, besides a few conversations here and there. You take a seat close to the front and place your backpack on the floor. Staring out the window, you calmly wait for the bus to arrive at your new school.

* * *

You sit in homeroom, slouching. You look around the room, wondering who you'll see every morning for the rest of the year. Some of them you recognize, but plenty are new to you. They must be from the other schools, you think. Your homeroom teacher began calling attendance. (His name was scribbled across the board as "Mr. Hobbes". Judging by his room, he was a math teacher.) You zone out, still a little tired from getting up so early.

"Gamzee Makara," Mr. Hobbes called.

Your ears metaphorically perk. You know him.

Silence followed his name. "Gamzee Makara?" the teacher asks again. The boy still didn't answer, and the teacher scribbled something on his clipboard with an annoyed expression.

Gamzee... He was that weird kid. The one that liked to pretend he was a clown. You remember this one time he brought a unicycle to the playground and tried to show off. The boy got up on it and automatically fell off. His feet didn't even reach the pedals. All of the kids on the schoolyard laughed at him, but that didn't phase Gamzee. He just kept his smile and got up, brushing himself off. Then, he proceeded to pull a red clown nose out of his pocket and juggle three tennis balls perfectly. That amazed the students, and the responded with a chorus of "woah!"s and "can I try?"s.

You always admired the way Gamzee could turn something bad into something goo-

"Tavros Nitram!" Mr. Hobbes calls with an annoyed tone. He is looking straight at you.

"H-here!" you squeaked, snapping back into reality. The room erupted into laughter, causing you to sink lower into your seat. So you couldn't deal with laughter like Gamzee. So what?

The teacher sighed and continued down the list. He was nearing the end when the door slammed open. At it stood a boy with hair that could house a family of birds. His face was painted white, much like a clown's. He wore a black shirt with the text "hOnK" written on it in purple. This could be none other than-

"Gamzee Makara is here," the boy, obviously Gamzee, said with a deep and scratchy voice. He was tall and lanky, and his face looked faraway. "Sorry I'm late," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

Mr. Hobbes sighs and mutters something about 'irresponsible students' as he writes more on his clipboard. He finishes attendence and sits behind his desk, shuffling through some papers and looking stressed out. You figure that the students weren't the only ones not ready for the first day of school.

Gamzee was still at the door. He scanned the kids and his eyes land on you. His expressions lights up a bit and he saunters over, his painted-on polka-doted pants swishing quietly. He takes the empty seat next to you.

"Hey, I think I know you. You're that motherfucker Tav, right?" he asks.

"A-actually, it's Tavros," you mutter.

"Hm? Well, that's okay too. Tavbro. Yeah yeah... I dig it."

"Tavros..." you murmur again, but he already made up his mind.

"So, Tavbro, what class do you up and have first, motherfucker?" he says, pulling a carelessly crumpled schedule out of his pocket. He looks at you expectantly, and you sigh and pull your neatly folded paper out of your agenda. He takes it and compares it with his own. "Hey!" he exclaims with the same wide grin. "We have English, History, Gym, and Band class together!"

He takes band? you wonder. You shrug it off and say dismissively, "cool."

The bell rings for your first true class in middle school. English with Ms. Casey. And Gamzee.

This is shaping up to be a long year.

* * *

**I feel like Tavros would play the flute. And Gamzee would play the saxophone. I don't know. My headcannons are pretty stupid.**

**Oh yeah... And uh... how dO YOU GAMZEE?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, people are actually reading this... I just got really happy.**

**Once again. My mistakes.**

**PLEASE.**

**Let me know****!**

* * *

You walk into English class, looking around at the room set up. It was slightly cold, and you could hear the slight hum of the school's air conditioner. You shiver slightly as you head to one of the desks in the back, where it was still empty. Gamzee was still following you, the same stupid smile placed on his lips. He sits down, gesturing happily to the seat next to him. You sigh and place your books on the desk and you go to sit down.

Just as you were, rough hands shoved you away. You stumble and fall as you hear gruff laughter behind you. Your back and neck is showered with brand new papers and your binder. You look up to see a big guy in what was about to be your seat. He has your favorite book in his hands, and he's mocking it by flipping through the pages and laughing. You gather your papers in a rush and quickly say, "hey that's mine give it back-"

"Peter Pan!" the guy laughs. "You're reading Peter Pan? How old are you?"

"Uh-uh," you stammer. "Th-that's mine, and I, uh, would appreciate it if you gave it back..." You stand up, holding the mess of papers to your chest. In the corner of your eye, you can see Gamzee getting up as well. You ignore his actions and continue trying to get your dog-eared book back.

The bully's eyes travel to your shirt. "Wa hoa! What's this?" he asks, as he reaches forward and shoves your papers to the ground again. "'Peter Pan on Broadway'? Are yo kidding me?" he laughed once again, and you decide it's the worst sound you've ever heard. "So lemme guess... You're favorite things are flying children and moody fairies? Ha! Hahaha!"

He looks at your book, then dangles it teasingly in front of you. You go to grab it, but he snatches it away last second. "Pl-please, that's my, favorite book..."

"Aww, does da wittle boy want his book back?" he taunts. Then, he opens the book, and holds the page threateningly.

"N-no!" you beg.

But it's too late. He rips out the page as the sound of tearing paper pierces your ears. Then another rip. Another. Soon there's a small pile of pages on the desk.

You feel tears prick your eyes. "Th-that's..." you squeak.

Suddenly, a pair of hands rip the book out of the bully's hands. Gamzee glares at him and picks up the pages on the desk. He looks at you and says, "c'mon, Tav, let's sit up front." He walks towards the front of the classroom, his one notebook under one arm, pencil tucked behind his ear, and your book safely in his hands.

Maybe this year won't be too bad, you think.

* * *

English class went by smoothly. Ms. Casey seemed like the spacey type of teacher, but at least she was bubbly. She handed out the book your class was to read, and read the first chapter aloud to you. You decide that you will like this years English class.

Your other classes weren't that hard either. Finally it was the last class of the day: Band.

You have actually been looking forward to this all day.

You held your flute tight to your chest as you entered the room, cautiously looking around. This class wasn't only a sixth grade class, but it was set up so the seventh and eighth grade could meet up as well. You scanned the room, getting a feel for what you are getting yourself into.

There were the percussion, hanging in the back, laughing at a joke one of the drumstick-clad just uttered. Then the brass, and you think they're having a contest on who can play their instrument louder. Your ears pound slightly at the tinny sound the shiny bronze instruments. The clarinets relaxed in their seats, chatting among themselves. The conductor was not in sight.

The flutes were giggling and talking to each other, and, of course, none of them were male. You sigh. Last year, there was only one other male flutist, and he must of quit for this year. You take a seat off to the side, realizing that not a single flute from your old school kept up with it.

You quietly took out your instrument and put it together, resting it on your lap. You pulled out Peter Pan, reading it as you waited for the conductor to show up. As soon as you did, there was a tap on your shoulder. You flinched and turned around, only to be face-to-facepaint with Gamzee. He had a black strap around his neck and a saxophone attached to it.

"Hey Tavbro!" Gamzee said, grinning.

You place your book under your chair. "Hi, Gamzee."

"So the little motherfucker plays the flute, huh?"

You blush, sifting slightly out of embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, I do..."

"That's pretty cool, picking an instrument with all of the ladies." He nudges you with a wink. "Smooth, Tavbro."

Your blush increases. "I-I-!" you start, just when a sharp tapping could be heard from up front. You spin around and pick up your flute, looking to the lanky man who sat on the stool in front. He introduced himself as Mr. Grey, and immediately started passing out grading sheets and music.

At first, Mr. Grey (or Mr. G as some of the older kids called him) seemed like a cool teacher. But you soon learned otherwise- that he was a yeller. Mainly at the percussion, who would all give up. This class makes your head hurt, not only from the yelling, but also from the mediocre sound of a Middle School band. You sigh and count every second until this class lets out and you could go home.

Finally, 2:04 rolls around and Mr. G lets everyone go to their lockers and get on the buses. As you leave, Gamzee lengthens his stride to catch up with you.

"Man, Mr. Grey Day is quite the loud one, eh Tav?"

"Mr. Grey Day?" you repeat.

"Yeah. He just up and made me feel grey, and ruined my day," he answers with a teasing smile.

He manages to get a giggle out of you. "That's pretty clever."

He grins back at you and you two chat, until he has to go to his own locker. He says that he doesn't have to worry about catching the bus, that his older brother was going to drive him home. With a quick wave of his hand, he was on his way.

You smile slightly, and feel pretty good about today. You grab your backpack and whatever other crap you need and head to the buses.

* * *

Your bus pulls up to your stop and you hop off. Your book is held lazily in your hand, and you start on your way. A smile is plastered on your face, you can't wait to tell your friend all about today.

You're walking when some roughly pokes your shoulder. You freeze and hesitantly peek your head around to see who it is.

Oh shit, you think.

It's Vriska.

She has a devilishly smug grin on her face. "So, Toreadork, how was your first day of school?" she asks, faking interesting.

"It was great, Vriska..." you state simply, beginning to turn so you can abscond.

But she wasn't finished. She grabs your arm and holds you there. "Still have the same stupid book, I see. How many times have you read that since second grade? One hundred? Two?" She laughs at her own joke and her blue eyes glint.

You just shuffle your feet awkwardly. "Uh, no, but I do really like this book-"

"Oh I bet. Do you still have that 'friend' of yours? Do you still talk to him daily?"

"No, I don't!" you say defiantly.

"Aw, don't lie to me, Tavros. We could never get you to stop talking to Rufio last year."

"I-I don't talk to him an-anymore...!"

"I sure hope so, Tavvy." he shoves you aside and walks to her house. "Freak." She snickers and turns down her driveway.

You reach your hand up to rub your slightly moist cheek. You didn't even realize you were crying. You shake your head to clear it and burst full speed down the street.

No one can tell you to stop talking to Rufio. He was your only real friend.

* * *

**Urgh sorry this took so long. Excuses are stupid, so I won't use any.**

**I originally meant this chapter to be longer, but I wanted to get this out there. Plus there's a guinea pig butt in my face.**

**Anyways, random news update. I'll be at Anime Boston this weekend! Yaay! On Saterday, and I'll be going to the homestuck photo shoot (Which is at 4:13. I'm still giggling.). If anyone, for whatever reason, wants to find me (coughhighlydoubtitcough) look for the shitty Terezi cosplayer.**

**Nuggets out! Peace!**


	3. Chapter 3

- adiosToreador began pestering swooshingSwordsmanship at 2:49 pm -

AT: rUFIO, ?

AT: aRE YOU THERE, ?

AT: i, uH, wANT TO TALK TO YOU,,,

SS: Yes? What is it, Tavros?

SS: Remember, I am always ready to talk to you.

AT: wELL, uH, tODAY WAS MY FIRST DAY OF, mIDDLE SCHOOL,,,

SS: Oh yeah!

SS: I forgot.

SS: How did it go?

AT: wELL,,,

SS: It wasn't anything like the books, right?

AT: wELL, iT KIND OF WAS,

AT: i WAS KICKED OUT OF MY UH, sEAT AND eNGLISH CLASS, bY A BULLY,

AT: aND vRISKA IS STILL A, uH, jERK,,,

AT: aND I'M DREADING GOING BACK TOMORROW,,,

SS: Well, Tavros, do not worry.

SS: I'm sure everything is going to turn out fine.

SS: Surely it couldn't of been all bad?

AT: wELL, nO,

SS: Hm? What happened?

AT: i THINK i, uH, mADE A NEW FRIEND,

AT: hIS NAME IS gAMZEE,,,

SS: ...

SS: Oh.

AT: wHAT'S WRONG, rUFIO, ?

SS: Nothing.

SS: It's just...

SS: Don't forget abut me, okay?

AT: oF COURSE NOT, !

SS: Good.

SS: Because I am your best friend.

SS: And I will always be your best friend.

SS: You will remember this, correct?

AT: yES, rUFIO, aLWAYS,

SS: Good.

SS: Now, I am deeply sorry Tavros, but I must take leave.

SS: There is something I must do.

AT: oH, aLRIGHT rUFIO,

AT: gOODBYE,

AT: }:)

SS: Goodbye, Tavvy.

SS: :)

- swooshingSwordsmanship ceased pestering adiosToreador at 3:13 -

* * *

**So yes, this was extremely short. But I'm going to Anime Boston tomorrow,and I wanted you guys to know who Rufio was.**

**Nuggets out.**

**Piece.**

**(( *peace **


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